


Yennefer of Nilfgaard

by AlexRyzlinGold



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Nilfgaardian Yennefer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexRyzlinGold/pseuds/AlexRyzlinGold
Summary: She was too late to secure Aedirn, so with anger deep in her heart, Yennefer went to Nilfgaard. Anger gave away to duty, and before she knew it, Yennefer had a purpose. She could change Nilfgaard, fix it. Make it the empire it should be, not the rundown ruin Fergus had turned it into. And if that pissed off the Brotherhood, all the better.Builds from the TV show, using lore from the games and books, so there will be spoilers for possibly the second season of the show. Who knows?
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 26
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

If there was one word to describe her time in Nilfgaard, Yennefer would have to go with horrible. Well, that wasn't quite right. It had been horrible, but she had made sure to change that.

King Fergus was handsy, and his other advisors had underestimated her. They were used to flighty, vapid sorceresses, since Nilfgaard had always been low on the Brotherhood's list of important courts. Yennefer had played the part for the first year. It wasn't hard so much as it was demeaning. It had been worth it in the end.

Then there were the courtly issues. No one took Nilfgaard seriously in the North. They thought it backwards, and lacking in culture, and some of the more delicate social graces that the North clung to. Well, they were right about the last part, but the rest of it was rubbish. How could you call the largest Empire on the Continent backwards? Nilfgaard had a long and bloody history. One of conquering and victory. 

And yet, every summit, everytime she went back to Aretuza, she had to pretend she didn't hear the whispers behind her back. Fringilla was the worst, of course. She never shut up about how well she was doing, and about how she would have turned Nilfgaard around by now, made it prosperous and safe for mages.

Which was a dirty lie. It was already prosperous, and relatively safe. Nilfgaard wasn't anti-magic, they were just very … set in their ways. Mages were there to serve the people, and that generally translated to serving the crown. But Nilfgaard was also home to a lot of mages that had either abandoned the Brotherhood, or who were never a part of it to begin with. There were a range of mages, herbalists, alchemists and druids fluttering around Nilfgaard and helping people. Occasionally one would try and rise above their station and demand leadership of a town or village, but that was quickly dealt with.

It didn't stop Yennefer from doing the exact same thing, however.

The problem with Nilfgaard wasn't _Nilfgaard_. It was the useless, power hungry, lecherous king. You could work with him, but Yennefer felt it was better to work _around_ him. That took some time, however. 

First, she dropped the vapid act. Next she made sure to give such good advice about various political, financial and martial problems that she couldn't be ignored. Even if she then had to personally go and make sure her solutions worked. Ever the lazy king, once Fergus expressed boredom at having to file through the various missives, legal changes and requests that arrived on his desk daily, Yennefer offered to do it for him, only bringing forth the ones he should actually consider. Well, no. She only bought him the ones he _would_ accept. Once he became aware of the fact that he did in fact agree on all of the papers she brought forward, he didn’t even bother reading them before signing. It made it easy to slip in a few the Fergus would never have agreed to on his own.

That was how she made her first ally. The captain of the palace guards came to her because the King was off with some mistress and didn’t want to be bothered. Even though the guard captain was meant to report directly to the King, he had little choice if he wanted to get his petition in on time. At least Yennefer was considered important enough for him to even bother. He came to her with a request that then men only work six days a week rather than seven. It was obvious that this was something he had brought to the king before. His men were willing to take a pay cut if it meant that they could get that one day off for their families and rest. Yennefer listened impassively to his speech, nodding along as she skimmed through the request. It was misspelt, and the handwriting cramped, but overall it was still readable. Something that many could not do.

“Did you write this?”

The captain stopped mid sentence, confusion etched over his face. “Uh, yes. I mean, yes, Lady Yennefer.”

“Interesting. What is your name?”

“Titus, Ma’am.”

Yennefer hummed in response. It wasn’t unusual for people to know of her, but her first year had been spent rather sheltered from the rest of the castle, and the past six had been very deeply embedded in the King’s study, and her own workshop. She hadn’t been given the time to meet those of any sort of rank in the castle. A matter she would have to fix.

“Very well. Your terms aren’t unreasonable. You may draw up a preliminary schedule, Captain. I will sort out the rest. I expect to see this new schedule within a week. I’d like to go over it with you.”

“With all due respect, Lady Yennefer, I’ve been trying to get the King to…”

“I said I would sort out the rest, Captain.” Yennefer interrupted softly. She had learnt that sometimes a softer, quieter approach tended to unsettle people quicker. That was probably why Tissaia had always come across as so unflappable.

She flicked her eyes up from the petition, pinning him with her violet gaze. She had also found, once she was away from Aretuza, that most people could not meet her eyes. They found it too unsettling, peering into the unnatural colour.

“So, as I said, leave it with me. I will sort out the rest. Unless you think I’m lying, Captain?”

Titus opened and closed his mouth several times, obviously trying to figure out how to remove his metaphorical foot from said mouth. “I...I… no! My Lady, I’d never…”

“Go, Captain. I’ll see you with those new schedules soon.”

Obviously a man who knew when to flee a losing battle, Titus turned on his heel and left.

Titus ended up being the first of many to come to her. Word spread quickly through the castle that if you wanted something done, you’d best go to Lady Yennefer. The title of Lady came more often, tripping off the lips of servants and nobles alike as they tried to garner favour with her.

Twenty years she spent at King Fergus’ side. She gave the people of Nilfgaard more freedom, and made them actually _want_ to work in the castle. One day off a week was just the start. Then there were the schools for servant's children, and the focus on literacy Empire wide. Free schools for children under twelve meant that by the end of the twenty years, children were teaching their parents to read and write.

The issue of mages who disliked the Brotherhood and who had snuck into the rather lawless lands of Nilfgaard rose rather soon into her time at court. The old royal herbalist, Arias, had only been the first who seemed to hate her on sight for her connection to the Brotherhood. But coming to her for knowledge of the local flora had helped. So had scoffing and announcing that Yennefer 'knew as much about the local herbs as the Brotherhood does about managing a circle of mages, that is to say, sod all'.

It had grown from there. Yennefer spent plenty of time learning how the rogue mages in Nilfgaard worked. Nilfgaardians didn't just accept them no questions asked, but insisted that they use their skills to better the nation. Aside from that they were mostly left to their own business, and certainly weren't driven out of towns. Most people, Yennefer knew, just wanted to live their lives, and if a druid or witch made their lives a little easier, then that was a nice surprise.

Arias was the one who bought forward the idea of creating smaller schools for some of the dying magics. Soothsaying was almost completely gone, and while Yennefer saw most of the druid magics as useless, they did help out in farming communities. The end result was several schools, though none as grand as Aretuza, spread around Nilfgaard. Druids, soothsayers, herbalists, alchemists, and even a school for blood magic. Yennefer kept a close eye on the latter. She knew that while not always evil per say, many blood magic users conveniently _forgot_ about ethics when it suited them. That didn't stop Yennefer from learning all she could about it, however. Nor did the lack of school for Necromancy. The necromancers had been insistent that their craft was best left in small numbers, and the information spread from a single master to a single student. Yennefer hadn't seen any reason to disagree, but had insisted on being educated herself. She felt it best to have a basic understanding of what was happening in her kingdom.

The side effect of so many new schools of magic opening was an increase in healers and magical practitioners across Nilfgaard, and considering that the schools were funded purely by the crown, graduates were happy to go where they were needed.

It also meant that the army had more healers among its ranks. Field medics knew more than ever before and casualties were at an all time low, in the few times Nilfgaard did make it’s martial presence known.

Twenty years, and then Emhyr stormed into the throne room and beat Fergus in an honour duel and retook the throne.

She had let him. Emhyr was the rightful king of Nilfgaard afterall, and despite appearances, Yennefer didn't actually want to _rule_. She was effectively immortal, and that seemed like far too much of a commitment for her. She had taken over many of Fergus' duties in the last few years, and that was more than enough of a taste for Yennefer to know she _did not_ want that for herself. It wasn't uncommon to see her sitting on the throne, settling matters of court, because Fergus was busy. What most people didn't know was that she encouraged him to be busy. Yennefer didn't trust Fergus to run an empire, he'd barely managed before her as far as she could tell. Hopefully Emhyr could actually manage the burden. If not, well, her council had already proven they remained loyal.

She walked into her workshop after Emhyr was sworn in to find her council waiting. Tituss, Arias, Grace, the head cook and de facto voice of the other servants, Duncan, the knight commander of the army, and the various heads of the different magical schools around Nilfgaard. Yennefer trusted them all to be loyal to her because she had made their lives better, made their jobs easier, and had given some of them a sense of purpose that they lacked under Fergus.

"To what do I own the intrusion? After today I was rather hoping for a well deserved night's rest." Yennefer snapped.

Her council had learnt not to take her moods personally. She had been forced to deal with Fergus on a daily basis after all. Besides, as she became more comfortable with them, the cold veneer she had crafted, melted away. That Yennefer was free with her emotions was a sign to the majority of her council that she trusted them. Not that she knew that.

"My Lady," Titus started. "we simply seek guidance. Is Lord Emhyr to be our new king?"

Yennefer rolled her eyes, and made her way across the room to her desk. She stopped halfway to check on a small cauldron that had been bubbling away for several days already. It needed another three days, but it was always good to check it hadn't turned bad. She finally made it to her desk and sat down in the plush armchair.

"There was a coronation, Titus. You were there. That is a good indicator that we have a new king."

Duncan cleared his throat. "My Lady, we seek what is only best for Nilfgaard. If that is not King Emhyr…"

Duncan shrugged, letting the obvious threat towards the king go unsaid.

"That's treason, Duncan. Is he not the rightful king?"

"He may be the legitimate king, but that doesn't mean he's a good king. I care only for Nilfgaard, and time has shown me that the only leader Nilfgaard _needs_ is in this room."

"I'm not going anywhere." Yennefer scoffed. "Give him some time. I came to Nilfgaard to fix it. To restore the peace, and prosperity that Fergus let rot away. I have done that, what more do you expect from me? Do you think I'll be here in five hundred years, babysitting Emhyr's great-great _whatever_? By all rights I should be packing my bag, since the king I served is dead."

Concern fluttered over several faces, and Yennefer flicked a hand, dismissing their worries before they could voice them.

"I'm not going anywhere. I still have much more that I want to do, and I'm not going to let some new king ruin all the work I've done. But he is the rightful king, and he has fought hard to get back to us. Hopefully he will fight just as hard _for_ us. We will have to wait and see."

Yennefer sighed and looked around the room. Everyone seemed relatively happy with that, and the trust they had in her was a little shocking. She had done it intentionally of course, but that had been with a useless waste of space of a king. There really hadn't been much competition. But even with their rightful king they still looked to her, someone who was, for all intents and purposes, and outsider.

And yet, it didn't quite feel like she had _everything_ yet. Something was missing, and Yennefer figured that Nilfgaard was as good a place to figure it all out.

She had been surprised by the amount of nobles, governors and lords from around the empire that made time after Emhyr's coronation to find her and ask if Emhyr had her support. She obviously had a wider circle of influence than anticipated.

/////

Emhyr ruled for a surprisingly short amount of time. He wasn't a kind man, but he wasn't stupid either. He also, sadly, wasn't used to ruling. Yennefer had gotten the story not from Emhyr, but from his young wife, Queen Pavetta. Cursed into a half human, half hedgehog beast, he had lived his life mostly in solitude after his father died. The major exception had been the time he saved Pavetta’s father’s life. Yennefer was surprised to find out that for once in her life she agreed with Queen Calanthe. The bastard should have just died, rather than promising, purposefully or not, his daughter to Emhyr as a Child of Surprise. The fact that Emhyr hadn’t learnt the lesson either, and had in turn promised his unborn child to a _Witcher_ of all things? It stunk of incompetence.

Pavetta was hopeful about the situation though, claiming that this Geralt was a kind, honourable man. Yennefer wanted to dislike the girl. She was too naive, and far too trusting. Despite being married to him, she still didn't see Emhyr's darker side. But as hard as she tried, Yennefer found that she did like Pavetta. She was unknowingly charming in a shy sort of way. Her mother had obviously been overbearing, but at least somewhat contemporary since Pavetta never asked Yennefer when she was going to settle down with a nice man. As a sorceress, Yennefer thought she had escaped that sort of talk, but no, she was still asked by twittering, old, noble women.

Pavetta was unbelievably optimistic, and saw the best in both people and situations. To her credit, she also seemed to draw the best out of people, so it wasn't like she was delusional. She was also quite sweet about how weird Yennefer was around her while pregnant. She was excited, grossed out, and jealous (and that one had come out of nowhere with a heap of baggage that Yennefer promptly filed away as too hard to deal with).

Pavetta was the only thing Emhyr and Yennefer ever really disagreed on. At first he had resented the fact that she questioned every decision he made, but he quickly learnt it was only to prepare him for the questions from his own council. After that they fell into an easy give and take. Yennefer was assigned to any and everything magical, as it was so far out of Emhyr's expertise, and Emhyr focused on the rest. Not that he didn't seek her council, he just made the final decision.

Pavetta fell under the category of magical however, and the later in her pregnancy she was the more her innate magical ability tended to snap around her. Emhyr refused for her to be trained, and any binding of her magic would be bad for the baby.

Even after Ciri was born, Emhyr refused to deal with the problem. That was why, at barely a year old, Ciri was orphaned.

It wasn't unusual for Yennefer to steal into Ciri’s nursery. She was fond of the baby, and Pavetta encouraged what she called ‘the best protection I could ever wish for’, which was a daunting amount of pressure, but still not a terrible analysis.

She was holding Ciri, rocking her gently as she had been rather unhappily wiggling in her bed just a few moments earlier when both Emhyr and Pavetta stormed into the room. Yennefer just rolled her eyes. She had seen more than her fair share of arguments from the King and Queen, and they always seemed to be about stupid things. The yelling didn’t bother her, and she was able to filter out whatever it is they were talking about but Ciri started to fuss. This must have been a bad one though. Pavetta had a tendency to close herself in the nursery with Ciri when Emhyr pushed too many of her buttons. He had never followed her in before.

Like a tickle in the back of her mind, Yennefer sensed the danger long before it started to manifest. A light blue light started to surround Pavetta and as she opened her mouth to scream something at Emhyr, Yennefer made a split second decision. She summoned a portal and turned, sprinting into it. She could feel the pure, raw magic wash across her back briefly before her portal was snapped closed from too much magical exposure.

Ciri complained softly as Yennefer pulled her tightly against her chest as she stumbled, trying to stop her feet suddenly.

“Mama?”

Yennefer closed her eyes slowly, and loosened her grip so that she wasn’t hurting Ciri.

“No, Sweetness. I don’t think you’re going to see Mama again. Let’s get home.”

Yennfer looked around, thankful that she recognised the small glade that they had appeared in. It was only about an hour away from the castle on foot, and usually where she completed rituals that required a natural environment, or when being interrupted could be deadly. She had been going on instinct, and honestly it was just as likely that she’d end up in Vengerburg or Aretuza as in Nilfgaard. Theoretically she could portal them back to the castle, but portals were tough on the bodies of mortals, and even more so on babies. It was better to walk.

Yennefer smelt smoke before anything else, but it didn’t take long to see the flames and magic wrapping around one of the tallest towers of the castle and contrasting sharply with the dark night sky. People ran around the grounds, buckets of water being handed up and up and up as they attempted to douse the flames. Titus and Ducan barked orders, working around each other to try and control the flames. Neither of them noticed as Yennefer walked up behind them.

“Titus, how much water do we have left in the wells?”

“Not enough.”

“It’s going to fucking have to be. The King, Queen, Princess, and Lady Yennefer are still unaccounted for, and I’m damn well not just waiting around to _see_.”

Yennefer interrupted before either man could truly insult the other.

“They’re dead. Empyr and Pavetta, I mean. She lost control of her magic.” Yennefer closed her eyes briefly. “I warned him. And her, but they refused to listen.”

The two men spun around, both showing shock, and then quickly relief.

“Lady Yennefer…” Titus said softly. “Thank the gods. And you have princess Cirilla!”

Yennefer nodded sadly and held a hand up to the tower. It was lucky that she had been studying the ways of various other magics. Druids for example did not generally have a lot of magical talent, but those who did often ended up with some skill in weather manipulation.

Her brow furrowed, and with a few soft words of Elder, dark clouds started to form above the tower. Soon rain started pouring down exclusively around the destroyed tower, extinguishing the flames, and leaving nothing but the light blue lights that glowed ominously. She’d have to clear the magic away before anyone else could go near the tower, but she didn’t think she’d have the energy to do so tonight.

Arias appeared at her elbow with a hot cup of tea. Yennefer had no doubt that it would be some combination of herbs needed to give herself a pick me up, since logically, Yennefer knew her night was far from over. Nilfgaard was once again Kingless, and this time the heir was a baby, not some lost man who could come back years later.

Yennefer took a fortifying breath and resettled Ciri in her arms. She was becoming rather heavy, especially after the hour walk, but magic had imbued her body with resilience, and there was currently no one she would be willing to hand the Princess over to. Yennefer took the offered tea and drank it down in a few gulps. Much like she had expected, her energy reserves seemed to build back up.

Arias looked down at the sleeping Ciri in Yennefer’s arms. “You made the right choice.”

Of that, Yennefer had no doubt.

/////

Once the tower was secure, it was discovered that there were no bodies to bury. Yennefer sent a message straight to Queen Calanthe with the news of her daughter’s death and her granddaughter’s survival. Not so surprisingly, all Yennefer got back was a demand for Ciri. It was promptly ignored. The Royal Council happily gave guardianship of Ciri over to Yennefer, and after several days of meetings, they also offered Yennefer stewardship of Nilfgaard until Ciri was old enough to take the throne for herself. She had been surprised by that, but Titus hadn’t. He instead insisted that she take it, since she had already proven herself, and the Royal Council obviously agreed. She tentatively agreed, knowing it would cause some problems in the future, but still unwilling to leave Ciri’s care to anyone else. In fact, there were very few people she trusted Ciri with at all. She’d had the small bed moved into her quarters for now, and if Yennefer could not be there Ciri was watched by either Arias or Titus’ wife, Helen. Or, on the odd occasion that he was free, Titus himself.

Such was the case when Emhyr and Pavetta’s funeral turned late as Yennefer was required to host. Calanthe did not come, but she was supposedly in her castle mourning. Yennefer arrived at the ball in a light pink gown, a far cry from the usual black that she had worn ever since she was first assigned to Nilfgaard. If possible, both Duncan and Titus bowed even lower than they normally did. They understood where many others wouldn’t.

Pink had been Pavetta’s favourite colour.

The only surprise of the night for Yennefer had been the appearance of Vanielle. She introduced herself as the Brotherhood's official representative, and enquired as to when Yennefer would join them back at Aretuza now that she had no king to serve.

Yennefer hummed and glanced around the room. “At least you’re not Stregobor.”

“Well, that is quite the compliment.” Vanielle mused. “Would it surprise you to know you’re not the first to tell me that.”

“After what he did to those poor babes? Not at all. I’m surprised the Brotherhood didn’t kill him.”

“Yes, well…”

“No, not surprised.” Yennefer interrupted. “Disgusted.”

Vanielle clenched her jaw, and Yennefer eyed her carefully before turning back to the party. In the end though, there was little Vanielle could do here in the heart of Nilfgaard.

“I understand some of you stood against him, and worked to minimise the damage he caused. It is to be commended, of course. But he should be dead. He’s lucky he didn’t try that in Nilfgaard. My people would have had no problem hunting him down. In fact, I think they would have insisted.”

Vanielle raised an eyebrow, and Yennefer wondered if silently, Vanielle agreed.

“So, when are you coming back to Aretuza?”

“I’m not. I have a duty to the people of Nilfgaard, and more importantly, to Princess Cirilla. I won’t be leaving either of them before the time is right. If the Brotherhood has a problem with that, well, maybe they should have sent me to Aedirn afterall.”


	2. Chapter 2

Everything was surprisingly hassle free for the next few years. Yennefer had done this before, when Fergus was still king, so no one was surprised to see her on the throne, and Nilfgaard gave her little, if any resistance. As Titus liked to remind her, she had done too much good in recent memory for the nation to not love her. Even the Brotherhood seemed to have given her a breather, which was surprising, but with an empire to run, Yennefer would take any small mercy.

That didn’t stop Yennefer from being immediately suspicious when a newly ascended sorceress appeared at the castle gates, asking permission to visit the various magical schools in Nilfgaard. The Brotherhood knew about the schools, though not for certain about the one for blood magic, and they had seemed mostly fine with the idea since aside from a small cross over when it came to botany, there was nowhere in Nilfgaard to be taught what they did in Aretuza and Ban Ard. Nildgaard did not have the mages to teach new mages how to control their chaos. At the moment, at least.

But Triss Merigold reminded Yennefer an amazing amount of Pavetta, so perhaps it was a little bit of nostelgia, and a little bit of guilt that meant that Yennefer made sure Triss would be able to explore Nilfgaard’s magical schools (excluding the one for blood magic, that was just a stupid thing to show a Brotherhood sorceress).

Yennefer lounged on the throne, as she took court. She had taken to wearing a black filigree mask whenever she met with the common petitioners. Most people still found her violet eyes disconcerting, even more so if they lived in the far reaches of Nilfgaard. The mask distracted from them, and had made some of the more nervous of her people much braver around her. No one would say it, but the fact that she was a powerful sorceress still made people a little uneasy, and her eyes were a very clear indicator of that. 

Triss stepped forward as two men who had been arguing over property lines agreed to head home and await one of her scribes to arrive with the old records to settle the matter. She curtsied, but stood a little too quickly to be proper. That had been the first thing that tickled in the back of Yennefer’s mind as strange. Triss smiled brightly, and that was also strange. Yennefer had a reputation of being strict but fair. Her judgements were absolute, so those that came before her only did so out of need, when no agreement could be made by any other means. That fact tended to make people a little nervous, so seeing a smile so unadulteratedly bright was very unusual.

Yennefer closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Like a heavy fog filling the room, Yennefer could smell and taste lavender, grass and freshly falling rain. An interesting scent, to be sure, but one that was only so strong because it was carried on a thick wave of magic.

“And you are?” Yennefer asked as she opened her eyes.

“Triss Merigold.”

“From the Brotherhood.”

Confusion flickered across Triss’ face for a second before her bright smile was back. Perhaps they no longer taught how to physically seek out magic in Aretuza anymore.

“Well, technically, I suppose. I am a member, but they didn’t send me if that’s something you’re worried about.”

Yennefer smirked slightly. “Worried? No, I wouldn't say that the Brotherhood worries me. I am still a member after all.” Yennefer stood and took off her mask, a sign for her guards to start clearing the room. “Technically. Come Triss Merigold, we can discuss whatever has brought you to Nilfgaard in my workshop.”

Triss followed as Yennefer led her out of the room and up into one of the highest towers. The few floors below Yennefer’s workshop were empty as a precaution against explosions. The night that Emphyr and Pavetta died, so did seven others. Guards, and servants going about their day in the guest quarters below. It wasn’t something that Yennefer was willing to risk again, even from herself.

Upon entering, Yennefer did her rounds of her workshop. She checked on the three potions brewing, and the row of herbs growing on the window sill. The room was bright, with a high vaulted ceiling, and plenty of space. At any given time she was usually working on several experiments, and to protect everyone there were more protective runes carved into stone and wood than was likely needed. It couldn’t be seen, but there was also an extensive magical library just a door away. Not as large as Aretuza’s, but Yennefer had made an effort to fill it with some of the rarer texts from a range of disciplines as well as the more recent research that had come out. Nilfgaard was at the forefront of Botany and Necromancy, not that it meant much to those outside of Nilfgaard.

“Uh, Yen..” Triss left out a soft gasp of air. “I mean, Lady? Queen?”

“Lady will do.” Yennefer said as she turned from the herbs.

She found Triss stopped at the doorway to her workshop, a thick vine wrapped tightly around her waist. More vines were slowly edging their way from the hanging planter above the door and around Triss’ body. One was already wrapped around Triss’s wrists, holding them behind her back, and a third was nearly around her neck.

“Oh, right. I always forget about that.” Yennefer said, not bothering to hide the amused smile on her lips.

She did one last check on her latest plant, a rare specimen that had been a gift from a travelling merchant, before making her way slowly to Triss. She really needed the specimen to thrive. It fed off of magic in its first year, hence why Arias couldn’t look after it, and Yennefer knew she wouldn’t be able to get another easily. Besides, the vines wrapped around Triss wouldn’t kill her. Yet.

Yennefer stepped into Triss’ personal space and laid a hand on the vine wrapped tightly around her waist. Instantly it loosened, letting Triss breath properly. Yennefer watched Triss curiously. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Triss wasn’t struggling. Instead, she seemed to be watching the plant with keen interest, even as it had pulled tighter and tighter around her. With her other hand, Yennefer reached up to the mass of writhing vines above Triss’ head. They gently squeezed Yennefer’s hand before receding back to the hanging planter, and curling in on itself.

“What is it?” Triss breathed out in awe. "It has to be at least semi-intelligent. It tightened when I didn't use your title."

Yennefer shrugged and moved to her desk, settling behind it and tidying up several of the loose papers there. “I couldn’t tell you. It was a gift from an advisor. At best I can tell it is a combination of several types of magic. I wouldn’t be surprised if Arias simply wanted me to be the test subject for it. It has its uses, of course. Now, why don’t you come and tell me why you’re in Nilfgaard?”

Triss tore her eyes away from the plant and sat down on the small stool in front of the desk.

“Apologies for the lack of proper chairs, I don’t usually have guests in here. At least you know not to touch everything.”

The stool was usually reserved for Ciri, and that was only because, even at only five years old, she was surprisingly well behaved. She knew not to touch anything in Yennefer’s workshop without asking permission first. Still, Yennefer dreaded the day Ciri became a teenager. She was sure Ciri would steal into her workshop for all kinds of things. At least she didn’t know about the plants Arias grew that helped people … relax. Not yet, anyway.

“So, why _are_ you in Nilfgaard?”

“I wanted to travel, to spend some time learning outside of Aretuza. Ever since you took over Nilfgaard it’s been talked about in hushed whispers, so I looked into it, and what you’ve done with the other schools is amazing. It may not be as destructive or powerful as the chaos that we wield as mages, but the other schools of magic deserve the same respect. And having a place where people can learn so that they can better their kingdom? It’s beautiful.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t find a court to call your own, hmm?”

Triss’ smile dimmed a little. “Well…”

“That was rhetorical. I’m well aware of all the mages in the various courts, and the only kingdom that has been requesting a court mage is _Nilfgaard_.” Yennefer rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair. “But no, instead of seeing to my request as they would any other steward I’m forced to be my own court mage. Even after I resigned. So I’m curious as to why the Brotherhood thinks I will allow a mage to wander around my empire unchecked, when they in turn cannot even manage the most basic of their duties here.”

“I didn’t know. The Brotherhood, well, they didn’t exactly approve of my journey here.”

“I didn’t peg you as a rebel, Triss Merigold.”

“It’s not unapproved, either.” Triss admitted. “I am free to do as I wish as long as I am contactable, and they never disapprove of mages continuing their learning. I did consult the Rectoress about where I might find a more complete education on some of the more natural based magics. She recommended Nilfgaard, and then it only seemed right to introduce myself rather than just wandering through your empire.”

“Oh? And how is our dear Tissaia? Still got that stick up her ass?”

Triss’ jaw dropped open, before quickly snapping shut. “No, I mean, she’s fine. The Rectoress is fine.”

Yennefer grinned. “Well, that is good to hear. Stay the night, and….”

Yennefer was interrupted by the door to her workshop banging open, and loud giggles entering the room. Triss tensed, but Yennefer simply stood, and took a few steps so she was out from behind her desk. Then she scooped up the small, white haired child, and held her comfortably on her hip.

“Hi Yenna.”

“Well now, Sweetness. Who have you run away from?”

The girl giggled again. “Helen.”

“And do you think she is worrying her head off, or cursing you right now?”

Ciri stared up at Yennefer with a serious expression.

“Worried.” She stated confidently after a brief pause.

“Worried, huh? I think she’s going to be cursing. And saying that you don’t get dessert tonight.”

Ciri folded her arms and pouted.

“This,” Yennefer said, and she turned slightly more towards Triss, allowing her to more fully see the child wrapped in her arms. “Is Princess Cirilla.”

Ciri scowled. “Just Ciri.”

Triss smiled softly and stood, dropping into a low curtsey. “Of course, Princess Just Ciri.”

Ciri stared at her for a few moments before bursting into giggles, and hiding her face in Yennefer’s neck. No one could mistake the fond look that came over Yennefer’s face.

“Now Little One, why don’t you go back and find Helen?” She gently let Ciri down from her grasp. “You give her enough grey hairs as it is.”

Ciri nodded and ran off, pausing only long enough to tug the door to the room closed. Yennefer watched intently as Ciri disappeared, her gaze following what Triss could only assume was Ciri’s movements long after the door shut. Suddenly Yennefer’s gaze snapped to Triss, and Triss only just managed to not shiver. There was power in Yennefer’s eyes. A deep spark. She had heard rumours that the purple colouring was natural, rather than a result from the final ascension enchantments. Tissaia refused to discuss her former pupil with anyone, perhaps bar a few friends, but Triss had managed to ask Sabrina one time during a summit. 

Sabrina had been uneasy talking about Yennefer. She obviously respected Yennefer, claiming she was as stubborn as she was clever, and more powerful than both combined. Even if it seemed like Yennefer didn’t know that about herself. In a low whisper, lying in bed early in the morning, at a time when it seemed like there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, Sabrina admitted that Yennefer almost scared her. She had confided in Triss about how Yennefer had captured a chaos bolt in herself, and then promptly tried to kill Sabrina with it. That had been scary, but years later, when Sabrina thought back on that moment and realised that as a _child_ that Yennefer had turned herself into a conduit for pure chaos on a whim, and had seen no negative consequences for it? That had scared Sabrina a lot more.

Then the smile was back on Yennefer’s face, as if it had never left. “What was I saying? Oh, right. Stay the night, and tomorrow I’ll have someone come and guide you through the schools. I imagine it will take you some time. And I won’t rush you, we have texts here in Nilfgaard you won’t see anywhere else. I hope you understand that there are some schools that you won’t be able to visit?”

“I, of course! You don’t need to…”

“Nonsense.” Yennefer interrupted. “You’ll have a better time with a guide. Some of the schools can be tricky to find, and they’ll be a little mistrustful of non-Nilfgaardians. This way you can actually research whatever it is that you are after.”

“Thank you, Yennefer.”

Yennefer froze ever so slightly. It had been a long time since someone had called her by just her name, with no title. Ciri calling her Yenna didn’t count. It was … nice. Like she had a friend for once in her life.

“And once you’re done in Nilfgaard, I’d suggest looking into Temeria. King Foltest doesn’t have a court mage, nor has he requested one. I do believe he has some sort of creature problem, however. I’m sure he’d be happy to take on any Brotherhood mage that helped him out.”

////

Triss stayed in Nilfgaard for over a year, fluttering between the magical schools and the castle. Each time she came back was with a new discovery, usually about healing, and for those few times, Yennefer indulged herself, and allowed herself to have full study sessions with Triss. They tried out new magics together, combining different types together to try and create new spells until the early hours of the morning. Thankfully, none of the spells ever ended up being too explosive. Though Yennefer never let Triss live down the time she lost half an eyebrow.

Yennefer was sad to see Triss go, but knew that Triss truly did want to be a court mage, and while Yennefer could offer her a job, it would do nothing but ostracise her from the rest of the Brotherhood. Besides, someone should really sort out Temeria.

////

Triss sent her regular letters, and it seemed like it took her a fair amount of time to actually get to Temeria. She seemed to stop at every settlement and either offer her help as a healer, or learn something new. She had even sent Yennefer a collection of dried, rare herbs that she picked up from some ancient ruin. Yennefer quickly handed them off to Arias once she saw the old woman's obvious delight.

Five years passed, and Triss was unofficially accepted as Temeria’s court mage. Unofficially only because the Brotherhood didn’t want to admit they hadn’t been responsible for the assignment. Triss was happy, however. She had a court to call her own, but was able to move about as freely as she wished. 

Yennefer got most of her news about the Brotherhood from a mage called Wyatt. He had attended Ban Ard and ascended shortly after Ciri was born. He was a native Nilfgaardian, and had requested a court position in Nilfgaard if possible. He hadn’t been given a court position at all, in the end. It had taken Wyatt several years and a surprise encounter with Triss in a tavern for him to discover that the Brotherhood had lied to him, and that Yennefer had been requesting someone just like him for close to ten years.

He headed straight to Yennefer after that, offering his services and loyalty. It was hard to grow up in Nilfgaard while Fergus was king and not see the improvements that Yennefer made. Wyatt had even been well ahead of the others at Ban Ard simply because he had benefited from the public schools that taught basic literacy and numeracy. The public schools being created by Yennefer rather than Fergus had been an open secret throughout all of Nilfgaard. Often when prayers were being said, it wasn’t King Fergus that Wyatt’s parents wished health upon. He hadn't fully understood why they prayed for Lady Yennefer’s health at the time, but after coming back to Nilfgaard from Ban Ard he had. 

No one thought it strange that he became a researcher in Nilfgaard after his years of wandering. It wasn’t unusual for mages to settle back into their home countries once they either left court, or realised they would never be sent to court.

No one questioned Wyatt, which worked out quite well for both him and Yennefer. Officially, Wyatt worked in the outskirts of the city of Nilfgaard as a translator of ancient texts. Unofficially, he acted as Yennefer’s court mage, and dealt with a myriad of magical problems, as well as assissination attempts. His passion was runes, and ancient dialects, so Yennefer set him up with some of the oldest Nilfgaardian texts in the castle that seemed to be about magic. She could read Nilfgaardian, but the older dialects were still beyond her. It was close enough to Elder that she had picked up the more modern tongue relatively quickly, and really, after thirty years in the empire, it would be more shocking for her not to speak and read Nilfgaardian. The texts were from old court mages that had long since left Nilfgaard, and they exposed a bloody history of war mages. Which, well, it wasn’t Yennefer’s intention to continue on the Nilgaardian tendency of conquering all the nearby lands, but it was still _interesting_. Especially the parts about dimeritium usage.

Weapon forging, safe mining, treatments, various strategies involving dimeritium in all of its forms, as well as a detailed map, showing a rather large mine of the mineral on the eastern border of Nilfgaard.

Wyatt’s translations usually found their way back to Ban Ard (at Stregobor’s insistence) and Aretuza (at Yennefer’s insistence, and without Stregobor’s knowledge). It was part of the ploy to make the Brotherhood think Wyatt wasn’t involved with Yennefer at all. It wasn’t a trick exactly, but Wyatt’s standing with the Brotherhood would drop if they knew he was working with her, and Yennefer didn’t want to ruin Wyatt’s life when she would only be Nilfgaard’s leader until Ciri was ready to take over.

This text about dimeritium however, never left Nilfgaard. Wyatt didn’t argue when Yennefer took both the original, and the translation, but he did appreciate that she let him browse her personal library and choose what he was going to translate after that. Rather than Yennefer just picking at random which had been her usual strategy.

Ducan spent the next month looking into the location of the mine, and the weapon forging of dimeritium. Not that Yennefer let that news travel far beyond her inner council. Considering the mutters of quiet discontent in the Brotherhood at her stewardship of Nilfgaard, Yennerfer was beginning to wonder if a secret backup plan wasn’t needed. Just in case.

Wyatt brought one of the more interesting problems Yennefer had ever had to deal with to her nearly a year after he started working for her. One of Nilfgaard’s governors had contacted him because it seemed that his daughter was missing, and he was certain she had been taken, by force, to Aretuza. He had sent constant messages, both to Aretuza and to his daughter, Silas. Not a single letter yielded a response. So he approached Wyatt, as the court's mage, and Wyatt in turn came to Yennefer. Aretuza was her school, after all. At least, that was the excuse he gave her. Yennefer was fairly certain it was because the only faculty from Aretuza that Wyatt knew about was Tissaia, and he was (rightly, if she was being honest) scared of her. 

Yennefer doubted that Silas had just been _taken_. While Yennefer’s own start at Aretuza hadn’t exactly been willing, it hadn’t been a kidnapping. Well, it technically hadn’t been a kidnapping. She had learnt while at Aretuza that most girls accepted the offer to go to Aretuza. What other choice did they have?

Yennefer met with Silas’ parents, and got the full story from them. They actually didn’t know what had happened to Silas, but she had disappeared after going to the local markets, and had been seen talking to a fancy looking woman. Nothing out of the ordinary, considering that she was the governor’s daughter. But Silas had experienced a conduit moment a week earlier. She had set fire to a stranger. She’d woken in the middle of the right, and left her room, only to be startled by someone creeping down the hallway. 

Yennefer sent a letter directly to Tissaia, asking if Silas was there, and if it was possible to talk to her. She waited a week, and when no response came, Yennefer portaled into the bowels of Tor Lara.

////

It looked exactly the same as the last time she had been there, breaking Istredd’s heart on purpose. She knew she had been cruel to him, but there hadn’t been any other option. At least not then. She’d been hurt, and angry, and any response other than cutting him down with words would have likely involved a deadly amount of magic. For whom it would be hard to say.

Yennefer kicked at the sand and moved towards one of the skull encrusted pillars. She ran a hand down the pillar. It was strange. She no longer hated the part of herself that was Elvish. Aedirn had not been her place in the world, and now, after a fair amount of hindsight, Yennefer doubted she’d have been happy there. Not in the long run. In Nilfgaard she finally felt at home, she finally had a purpose to her life.

And to think, she was only there because of her twisted spine inducing blood, and a betrayal from one of the first people she truly cared about. Yennefer didn’t hate Istredd for his actions, but the betrayal still stung a little. It was the same with her father. Well, her step-father. Except she definitely hated the man for being an alcoholic, abusive asshole. She just didn’t hate him for selling her to Tissaia. Honestly, her family had needed the money, and it wasn’t like Tissaia was going to just leave without her. Still, he could have gone higher than a fucking pig.

He’d died years ago. Before Yennefer ever left Aretuza. She only knew because she sent someone to the outskirts of Vengerberg a few years ago. Her agent still lived there, getting fat on her coin, and reporting back to her regularly. Her mother was still alive, living with one of her half-sisters and her husband on the pig farm. Her other siblings had moved around, though most of them still lived in Vengerberg. One even worked in the Aedirn castle as a blacksmith. It was almost a mercy to not have to see her youngest half-brother regularly. She wondered what he thought of her. She wondered if he even knew of her, he’d been a baby when she left.

Kicking herself out of the odd bout of nostalgia, Yennefer started her journey into Aretuza.

She wouldn’t be questioned, moving across the bridge from Tor Lara into Aretuza. The other way around, and perhaps she would be stopped, but Tor Lara was generally thought to be well warded. That Yennefer had made several trips in and out of it uncontested through portals was another matter entirely. As far as Yennefer could tell, she was particularly skilled with portals. The best working theory she had was that her conduit moment had punched a hole in the wards that was very specifically Yennefer shaped, and that was only a theory she had made after reading a few too many texts on wards during her first year in Nilfgaard. She had read a lot of books in an attempt to at least stay partially entertained.

Yennefer made her way through the bottom floor of Aretuza. It was the public floor, and she noticed more than one person do a double take at seeing her. She wasn’t likely to come across any Kings of Queens here, but there were always aides and representatives. A few nodded her way, and a representative from Temeria even dropped into a shallow bow. She’d had better relations with Temeria since Triss went and solved whatever their monster problem was at her suggestion. Yennefer received a ‘thank you, please never talk about this again’ gift from Folest which she had accepted, and plainly told him that she had only let Triss know, and that any actions that happened from that were all on Triss. King Folest had been quite relieved to know that she both wasn’t completely aware of whatever his situation was, and didn’t expect compensation for solving it. Yennefer would have been offended at the assumption, except she had worked with Fergus for long enough to know that he was the sort of prick that would take advantage in _any_ situation. She nodded back at the representative briefly but didn’t stop.

A few guards tried to stop her as she headed towards the stairs that led up into the real Aretuza, but with a flick of her hand and a muttered word of Elder they were frozen. Yennefer blew them a kiss as she breezed passed.

It was midday, time for lunch, so few people would be around. Classes would be empty, aside from the odd student and teacher, and unless some student desperately needed to study, the library was usually empty. Tissaia’s office was in one of the taller towers, and Yennefer figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of her either being there or not. Tissaia was a great believer in all of her staff and students dining together, but also had a tendency to get caught up in work far too easily. Either way, Tissaia was sure to sense her sooner or later.

Surprisingly, the door opened under Yennefer’s hand, though Tissaia wasn’t there to greet her. Instead Yennefer took her time looking around the office. She wasn’t surprised to see the few herbs and other plants around the room. Tissaia never really spoke too much about her extended studies when she taught, only briefly touching on some of it in botany classes, though she never claimed the information as _hers_. Despite the fact that several of the poisons she mentioned had been invented by Tissaia herself. Yennefer had never figured out if it was because Tissaia was humble, or because she didn’t want to encourage a bunch of angsty teenage girls to study poisons a bit more closely.

Yennefer found a whole collection of Tissaia’s early works in the old court mage library nack in Nilfgaard. From what Yennefer knew of her predecessor, it wouldn’t have been his. Titus claimed the man could barely read. The mage library leaned towards rarer books, simply because Nilfgaardian court mages had a tendency to leave service rather suddenly. Someone had been rather into poisons, and the collection of Tissaia’s work had even all been first editions. Yennefer had been tempted to bring one and ask Tissaia to sign it. Just to see what happened.

The office didn’t seem to have changed much. There were new chairs in front of the desk, but the plush armchair that Tissaia sat in was still the same. The rug was different too, and judging from the edge of a scorch mark mostly hidden beneath the new one, Yennefer could make a guess as to why.

Uncharacteristically, the desk seemed to be rather cluttered with papers, though it was towards the end of the week, and Tissaia likely had a heap of essays to mark if Yennefer remembered correctly. Yennefer dropped herself into the armchair. She didn’t even feel the slightest bit of guilt. After all, Tissaia should have expected _something_ after she ignored Yennefer’s letter.

Leaning back, Yennefer plucked a sheet of paper off of the desk and started to read. It was _horrible_. She now understood why Tissaia’s pipe, which Yennefer had only ever seen Tissaia use occasionally, was lying on the desk as well. Shrugging Yennefer shoved the pipe in her mouth and lit it with a click of her fingers. After a few minutes she sunk deeper into the chair, placing her boots up on Tissaia’s desk and pulling the pile of essays towards her. She didn’t bother holding the pipe, rather she breathed the smoke deep into her lung, and out through her nose.

That’s how Tissaia found her half an hour later, another stack of papers in her arms. Yennefer slightly lowered the essay she was reading and peered at Tissaia over it.

“If I was ever this stupid, you have my sincerest apologies. I think this is the most terribly written thing I've ever had the misfortune to read, and I taught an overachieving four year old who couldn’t write in a straight line, let alone spell.”

Not solely, of course. Ciri had the best tutors in the empire, but she always came to Yennefer for extra practise.

Tissaia’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, and Yennefer likely would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking for it.

“You’re still that stupid, dear. Now get your feet off my desk, that’s unsanitary.”

Yennefer’s feet dropped to the ground with a loud thud, and she stood, tossing the stack of papers from her lap and onto the desk. Tissaia followed suit, though with much more grace. She placed her pile of papers on the desk, and shooed Yennefer out from behind it. Yennefer rolled her eyes, but did as she was bid.

Tissaia tidied up her desk, cleaning the mess that Yennefer had made.

“What are you doing here, Yennefer?”

“I missed you?”

Tissaia’s head shot up, and this time Yennefer definitely saw the frown on her face.

“Yennefer…” It was said not with warning, but with exasperation.

Yennefer was almost proud with how quickly she had gotten under Tissaia’s skin. She had always been good at it, though Tissaia had been better. Then again, one of them had been a centuries old mage, and the other had been a teenager with major abandonment and trust issues. Of course Tissaia was going to win.

“You’re the one that wouldn’t answer any of my letters.” Yennefer said, letting out a puff of smoke.

Tissaia sighed and sat in her armchair. “You only sent one, and give me back my pipe.”

Yennefer reluctantly handed the pipe over, only slightly surprised when Tissaia instantly put it in her mouth. So much for unsanitary.

“So you did get it then.”

“Of course. I should have known however, that you wouldn’t take no response as the answer it was intended to be.” Tissaia turned to her paperwork. “Silas asked that all correspondence regarding her that came out of Nilfgaard be destroyed. She’s happy here.”

“Her parents think she has been kidnapped.”

That got a reaction from Tissaia. Her head shot up, and she looked genuinely surprised.

“I’ve not kidnapped a single one of my students.”

Which was technically true. Usually students that refused to come were left alone until their magic acted out, and then they were either dead, or at the doors of Aretuza, begging for help.

“Debatable.” Yennefer said with a snort. “But I know you didn’t kidnap Silas. That doesn’t help the fact that her parents don’t know where she is.”

“It is unfortunate, but does not explain what exactly you think coming here will accomplish.”

“I’d like to take Silas back to her parents.”

“No. Silas made her choice and her parents...”

“ _Tissaia_ , could you be less confrontational for one fucking second? I couldn’t care less what her parents want. What I know is that one of my governors has asked me to look into his daughter’s whereabouts, as I am uniquely able to. If she wants to stay here, that’s fine, but I need her to come back to Nilfgaard with me, just for a day. Then we can lay it to rest.”

“No.” 

No explanation, no pretty words to dull the rejection. It was as if she was sixteen again, and being told she couldn't join the others on a group trip out of Aretuza because she hadn't finished her homework.

“Stop it.” Yennefer snapped. “Stop treating me like a former student, and treat me like the fucking leader of the continent’s largest empire.”

“I wasn’t…” Tissaia cut herself off.

She was used to talking and mingling with the various noble families. It was the bread and butter of Aretuza. Either through the kings and queens, who paid a tithing to Aretuza or Ban Ard for their court mage’s skills, or through the more recent addition of potential girls who had not yet had their conduit moment, but could potentially have one. Tissaia had made sure to present it as an opportunity for the elite to better themselves and their standing. She only took in a few girls, at an exorbitant price. All in the hopes that Aretuza would survive the same as it always had.

Yennefer was right, she would have shown much more respect if she was talking to any of those other rulers. But Yennefer was, well, Yennefer. The girl from a pig farm who had grown up angry, determined, and just a little bit too headstrong. The last time they had talked had been full of anger, disappointment, and a rather large heaping of regret on Tissaia’s side.

“It wasn’t intentional. My apologies, Lady Yennefer.”

It wasn’t often that Tissaia apologised, not because she saw it as a sign of weakness, but usually because the people she dealt with were idiots who didn’t deserve the acknowledgement. Stregobor was one of the few people she clashed with reguarly, and he could go fuck himself, no matter the situation. He was wholly responsible for Tissaia’s personal policy of not apologising, or being polite to baby murderers. She had been Rectoress of Aretuza for centuries, when she was here, in her element, there were very few times she was wrong. And Tissaia was rarely away from Aretuza. So apologises? They were few and far between.

“Please, say what you came here to say.”

Yennefer sighed deeply and sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of Tissaia’s desk.

“Nilfgaard’s people are starting to dislike the Brotherhood.” Yennefer said slowly.

“They love you. And despite the uneasy relationship you have with the Brotherhood, you’ve never left us.” Tissaia said softly. "I understand the rumours of necromancy and blood magic in Nilfgaard make for a tentative relationship at best, but you still do technically belong to the Brotherhood."

This calmness between them felt fragile. Like it could break and end in a fight at any second. Not something that either of them wanted, but something they could both imagine happening.

“I’m well aware of the Brotherhood’s thoughts on my becoming the steward of Nilfgaard.” Yennefer snorted out. “That’s neither here nor there. My people know that I am Nilfgaardian before I am anything else. They look at me and they don’t see the Brotherhood, they see everything I’ve done for them, and continue to do for them. They know, as well as I do that looking after Nilfgaard, until Ciri is ready, is my duty. I gave them schools, and healers, better and safer roads, and enough coin flowing that almost everyone is happy.”

Tissaia raised an eyebrow. “King Fergus is generally credited with the creation of schools throughout Nilfgaard.”

“Please, the last ten years of his reign he did nothing without my say so. He was happy as long as he could still drink and sleep around.”

“You took over Nilfgaard that long ago? How did no one know?”

“I didn’t _take over_ anything.” Yennefer argued. “I stabilised and brought peace to Nilfgaard. Everything still went through the King’s Council, and besides, everyone _knew_. It was our worst kept secret.”

“A whole empire doesn’t keep a secret like that, Yennefer. It can’t.”

“Nilfgaardians are very patriotic. The King’s Council knew, and it didn’t take long for the nobles and governor’s to figure it out. They knew things got done faster if they came to me, not Fergus. That’s when the rumours that I had created the schools started. The council decided to create new rumours about how Nilfgaard needed to look strong to the outside world, and how I could be reassigned to another court if the wrong people heard the wrong thing. Coupled with the crown never formally announcing it was my idea and that, my involvement was turned into hushed whispers. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you, right? Anyone who left Nilfgaard was just a raving lunatic to everyone else, because the Brotherhood would obviously _never_ allow a mage to step out of place.” Yennefer sighed. “It was all very complicated, and then Emhyr took over and I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. That was a good year while it lasted.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“That was the point, yes.” Yennefer said dryly. 

“I don’t understand what this has to do with Nilfgaard and the Brotherhood, though.”

“The rumour about the Brotherhood reassigning me to another court was the start. The magical schools I created compounded it. Herbalists and alchemists are generally dismissed by the Brotherhood. Their sects, as well as many others, across the whole continent have grown disillusioned with them. They feel disrespected and underappreciated, despite the fact that they train and learn just as much as we do. So they move to Nilfgaard to teach, because now they can. Now they feel recognised. Only they teach their hate of the Brotherhood as much as they teach their craft, and soon some poor boy in a village asks his local druid about magic, until they eventually touch on the Brotherhood. Suddenly, what that boy believes in as truth is second hand hate, for a group of people he’s never even met.”

Tissaia nodded. It was obviously just a hypothetical example that Yennefer was making, but Tissaia had been around long enough to have seen it happen in real life.

“There is no love lost between you and the Chapter, Yennefer. Why do you care so much?”

“What happens when that boy’s sister has her conduit moment, and she goes off to Aretuza, only to come back years later to hostility from her family? What happens when the next boy sees that, and refuses to go to Ban Ard after his conduit moment? Does he hurt someone when he’s eventually consumed by the chaos? I can’t teach them all. Nilfgaard is a very large place, and frankly put, we don’t have the mages or the resources to make our own Aretuza. Even if we did, I wouldn’t want that. I don’t want Nilfgaard to pull away from the rest of the world just because we _can_ do it on our own. I’d love more mages like Triss to come and learn from our schools and libraries. But if there’s a chance that they’re going to be met with a mob, what's the point?” Yennefer said softly.

“You think a mob would take down one of my students?”

“I think a mob can do a lot of damage in a short amount of time.”

“I see your point.” 

“That’s just the commoners. The governors and nobles have met mages before, they know what the Brotherhood is and does. They still hear the rumours, even more so now that I can assign a druid, or a herbalist to their home city to help the people there. That changes when Silas’ parents start telling the other governors that she was kidnapped by the Brotherhood, and is being forcefully held in Aretuza.” Yennefer explained. “These sorts of things escalate, Tissaia, you know they do. Look at Cintra, they refuse any mage the Brotherhood offers them, ban mages from their kingdom, and refuse to trade with you. Even if none of my council is brave enough to suggest we do the same, they’ll just wait until Ciri is Empress. The Brotherhood can’t afford that. We’re the largest exporter of herbs on the continent, and we’re only getting bigger. I refuse to let Nilfgaard fall apart before I even hand it over to Ciri, or leave that shitshow as her first issue to solve as Empress.”

Tissaia drew the pipe from her mouth and set it gently on her desk.

“I see your point, but I don’t understand why you need Silas.”

“I want to take her home.” Yennefer quickly held up a hand as Tissaia went to protest. “Just for a day. Then it’s up to her. If she wants to come back to Aretuza, I will personally bring her back to continue her studies. If she doesn’t that’s fine too. As long as my people see her make the choice herself.”

“She was terrified when I came for her. Not of me.”

“That must have been a novel experience for you.” Yennefer interrupted.

Tissaia just rolled her eyes and continued. “She was scared that her parents would find her and drag her back home.”

“I’m not stupid enough to think I could just portal out of here with her. I know there are wards, and if you wanted to stop me, you could. You won’t let me take her then?”

“It’s not up to me. I will call Silas up here, and she will decide. If she decides to stay in Nilfgaard after all of this, you need to look after her, Yennefer. She does not have control yet.”

Yennefer nodded. “Thank you.”

Tissaia pulled a fresh sheet of paper out from the draw of her desk, and scrawled a quick note. She rolled it up, and with a complicated hand gesture, the scroll disappeared, likely appearing before Silas somewhere else in Aretuza.

Tissaia sighed heavily, and Yennefer glanced at her.

“It _is_ good to see you, Tissaia. Despite the reason I’m here.”

“And you, Piglet. What you’ve done in Nilfgaard, well, it’s impressive, if stupid and dangerous.”

Yennefer leant back into her chair gracefully. “Of course. I’ve got to have fun somehow. What’s life without a little stupidity and danger?”

“Safe.” Tissaia replied with narrowed eyes.

Yennefer just laughed and picked the pipe off the table again. She took a few puffs.

“I see why you like this thing. Very relaxing.”

“You’d be more relaxed if you stopped antagonising the Brotherhood.”

“We’ve been over this. I’m trying, alright? Besides, I don’t do shit to the Brotherhood. All I do is exist and they do all the rest for me. Jumping to conclusions is pretty much the only thing they’re good at.” Yennefer shrugged and politely pretended to not notice the smirk that curled on Tissaia’s face briefly before disappearing. 

“Trying indeed. You just gave me a very impassioned speech about helping the Brotherhood for someone who doesn’t like them very much.”

Yennefer snorted. “I will admit that the Brotherhood has a _few_ , very few, good members. But I care about Nilfgaard, not those old fucks.”

“I can tell. Nilfgaard no longer gives it’s yearly tithing to Aretuza. It rather annoyed the Brotherhood when they found out.”

“Why should I pay to use my own skills, when the Brotherhood won’t even fulfill my request for a court mage?”

“You requested a court mage?”

“Every year since I stepped down. I couldn’t very well be Nilfgaard’s leader _and_ court mage.”

Tissaia pursed her lips. “Interesting.”

They both heard the heavy footfalls that seemingly only teenagers could make before it stopped suddenly, and a soft knock came at the door.

“On your best behavior now, Yennefer.” Tissaia said softly before raising her voice. “Enter.”

Tissaia turned to the papers on her desk, moving one towards her and taking her quill. The door opened, and in strode a girl that couldn’t have been older than sixteen. She was slightly older than Yennefer had expected, but a conduit moment didn’t really care for the age of the sorceress. She had a strong jaw, and slightly darkened skin that indicated she was a native Nilfgaardian, rather than one of the other kingdoms that had fallen under Nilfgaard’s rule over the years. She looked first to Tissaia, before her gaze shifted to Yennefer just as Yennefer stood from her chair. Her eyes widened and she dropped into a low curtsey.

“Lady Yennefer, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She spoke softly, and deferentially. A skill she had likely learnt growing up in a noble house. 

Yennefer took a step forward. She knew Tissaia was watching every movement, even as she pretended that she wasn’t. It had been effective on a young Yennefer, but as a ruler she too had learnt that much more could be gleaned from someone who didn’t think they were being watched.

“Up. You are Silas, yes?”

“Yes, My Lady.”

Yennefer peered down at Silas. She still wouldn’t meet Yennefer’s gaze. 

“Your parents asked me to find you.”

Yennefer could practically see Silas’ whole being deflate. She tensed her shoulders and jaw almost painfully.

“I suspected as much, My Lady.” Silas said softly. “Am I to return home? I believe my father had a suitor for me. At least he did last month.”

“You’re not exactly arguing the point.”

“I have a duty to my family, and to my empire. Why would I argue?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Even more so when that crown is your family’s future, now isn’t it? It is never easy to decide between duty and yourself.”

Silas’ head shot up in surprise. She opened and then closed her mouth with a sharp click.

“Decide, My Lady?” Silas got out eventually.

“ _Va calm, luned._ The series of events that have led me here are a little more complicated than your just parents asking for my help. I would ask you to come back to Nilfgaard with me. Just for a day, so that your family can see that you are alive and healthy. What happens after that is up to you.”

“I… I don’t understand, My Lady.”

“Do you wish to go back to Nilfgaard? Please try and ignore the Rectoress sitting behind us, pretending to be engrossed in essays while she judges, well, both of us I’m sure.”

“It’s _my_ office, Yennefer. I can pretend what I want.” Tissaia huffed. “But she is correct, Silas. I would not think less of you if you wished to return to your family. The life of a sorceress is not for everyone.”

It could be for Silas though. Tissaia would have potentially put up more of an argument if she hadn’t been so sure that Silas would choose Aretuza. One month was not enough time to be able to tell if she’d make it to ascension, but Tissaia recognised that drive to be more than what life had originally presented her.

“I want to stay here. I want to learn.” Silas said sharply and quickly. “I don’t want to be a broodmare just to make sure my father dies feeling like he has accomplished something.”

Yennefer let out an undignified snort. “Well, that answers that question, now doesn’t it? Will you accompany me back to Nilfgaard? You have my word that it will be your choice as to what happens after that.”

Silas nodded. “I owe them that much at least. They deserve to know where I am.”

“Good.” Tissaia said loudly. “Go pack, you will be away for at least a night. If you have any doubt as to if you will come back I recommend that you pack any personal items you may have accrued over the past month. I will not be sending them after you if you stay.”

Silas’ eyes widened, and with a quick nod she darted out of the room. Yennefer watched her go with mild amusement. Silas was definitely feisty, even if she was mostly able to hide it under a thin veneer of manners. She wasn’t surprised the girl disliked the idea of being married off on her parent’s say so.

////

The only really safe place to portal in and out of Nilfgaard’s castle was the throne room, or Yennefer’s study. Not the workshop, but the room she used mainly to work through her mountains of paperwork rather than the magical experiments locked away upstairs. It was the study that Yennefer chose to appear in. She steadied Silas with a hand on the girl’s arm as they exited the portal. Even having had a conduit moment, Silas would still find the journey taxing, especially since they had moved halfway across the continent. She gently guided Silas to her chair, forcing her to sit down.

“Just wait it out. It’ll take a few moments, we can leave once you’re ready.”

While Silas focused on her breathing, Yennefer popped her head out of the door. Her study was always guarded, and thankfully that meant that she was easily able to get Silas’ parents collected from their rooms and waiting for them in the throne room. They had been staying at the castle for the past week, unhappy that Yennefer decided to wait on a response (or lack thereof) before acting, but understanding that it was a needed evil. They would be waiting, and as soon as that meeting was done, Yennefer would need to meet with her council. She had a proposition to put forward.

////

Silas was engulfed in a hug the moment her mother saw her, and even the gruff exterior that the Governor tried to portray didn’t hide the relief he obviously felt. Yennefer simply let the reunion happen as she sat on the throne. It didn’t take long for the thank yous to start, and Yennefer met each one with a graceful nod. It wasn’t until the Governor started to lead his family away that she spoke.

“Wait.” Yennefer tilted her head to the side as she considered the family. “You’re not leaving.”

“My Lady?”

Yennefer stood, ignoring the Governor as she approached Silas. She reached up and unlatched her necklace. The obsidian star on a black silk choker was rather iconic for her, something people definitely associated with Yennefer. Many people in the room had never seen her without it, and even more knew that Princess Cirilla had her own copy of it. Yennefer fastened the choker around Silas’ neck.

“You will stay the night here, it is getting late after all. Tomorrow I will expect Silas to come to me with her decision.”

“Her decision?”

“The choice to go back to Aretuza, or stay in Nilfgaard is up to her.”

“That’s not what we talked about.” The Governor interrupted. “You agreed to help!”

“Do not presume to tell me what I have and have not agreed to.” Yennefer said darkly and she turned to the Governor. “I said I would help your daughter, and I am. She is old enough to make her own decisions about her own life.”

“She is my daughter!”

“She is her own person, and I will not argue with you about this. You have this night, and as much time as you need tomorrow.”

Yennefer reached out and traced her fingers across the star of the necklace now laid across Silas’ neck.

“Don’t push your luck, Governor. You’ve already annoyed me enough for one night, and if I am forced to track Silas down through this necklace because of you I will be _very_ unhappy.”

////

Silas arrived with her parents shortly after noon the next day. Yennefer stood from her throne and approached Silas. Gently she took her necklace back, and took the time to take in Silas’ face. She obviously hadn't slept well.

“All crowns are heavy, my dear, but the ones you choose for yourself are the ones worth bearing.” Yennefer fastened her necklace around her throat again. “Well?” 

“I will return to Aretuza.”

Yennefer nodded and raised a hand out to the side. A portal appeared, and with little more than a squaring of her shoulders and a single glance back, Silas was gone.

“I’ve lost her.” The Governor said sadly.

“If you had convinced her to stay, or tried to force her, you would have lost her just as much.”

“So there was no way for me to win?”

“This was never about you. Some people have bigger lives they’re meant to lead. I get the feeling Silas is one of them. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Then Yennefer was gone through the portal as well.

////

When she walked through into Tissaia’s office Silas was on her knees on the ground, looking a little worse for wear. By Tissaia’s twisted grimace, Yennefer could only assume that Silas hadn’t made it to a waste container before she threw up. Yennefer knew from experience that Tissaia was one of the quickest to react to spills or stains. Sometimes it seemed like a cleaning spell was always on the tip of Tissaia’s tongue. She collapsed the portal and moved towards Silas.

She helped Silas up, barely suppressing her laughter.

“Go and lie down, it’ll wear off soon enough. Thank you for accommodating me with this, Silas.”

Silas nodded and moved slowly to the door. She stopped before leaving, giving both of them a shallow curtsey.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Lady Yennefer. Rectoress.”

The door shut softly behind her.

“It went well?” Tissaia queried softly.

“Well enough. Her father is unhappy, but he will live with it. He has no other choice.” Yennefer sat in the same uncomfortable chair as she did the day before.

“Do we have some business that I’m unaware of?” Tissaia asked, sitting back in the chair behind her desk.

“Yes, actually. I would ask a favour of you. If she fails, if she is not controlled enough to ascend, would you bring her to me? Back to Nilfgaard?”

“She’d be a danger, Yennefer.”

“I know, but she is a daughter of Nilfgaard, and therefore she is my responsibility. We have ways. We can restrict her chaos.”

Tissaia narrowed her eyes. “I do what I do because it is one of the few ways to control and restrict uncontrolled chaos. There are other ways, but they are dark, or deadly.”

“I know.”

“So the rumours are true then?”

“I couldn’t possibly confirm nor deny something that vague.”

“I mean the…”

Yennefer looked away. “I know what you mean, Tissaia. I’d rather not clarify though, I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”

“I see.”

“I doubt that. Not many outside of Nilfgaard do.”

Tissaia scanned Yennefer’s face for a few moments, and then she smiled softly. “You did it.”

A bewildered look crossed Yennefer’s face. “Did what?”

“You found a place to belong.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose I did.”

“I am happy for you, Yennefer.

“Yes, well, thank you. I guess.”

“If it happens, I will bring her to you. Only on the condition that I see what happens and am able to check that she is not a risk.”

“Agreed.” Yennefer said with a grin. “Now, shall we move onto more pleasant topics?”

“We have more to talk about?”

“Of course. Nilfgaard offers free education to all children of the empire, but there is little I can do to help those who have a conduit moment. There aren’t enough mages with free time to help, let alone those with an inclination to teach. So, Nilfgaard will pay the school fees for any and all students that Aretuza takes on.”

“On what conditions?” Tissaia asked suspiciously.

“They’re offered to Nilfgaard as court mages first.”

“Nilfgaard still pays the tithe, and you _will_ listen if I think it would be a bad match.”

“Fine. I’m not obliged to take your advice on placements however.”

Tissaia narrowed her eyes. “You’re being far too accommodating.”

“Frankly put, Tissaia, I don’t want a bunch of children who have no control of their chaos running around Nilfgaard setting things on fire. I have no official court mage to sort out that sort of rubbish, and an empire to run. I barely have enough time to keep up with Ciri. I really don’t want to add however many more children to my responsibilities.”

“Fair enough. You have a deal, Yennefer.”

“Fantastic.” Yennefer smirked. “Feel free to rub it in Stregobor’s face. I’m sure I’ll extend a similar deal to Ban Ard at some point, but I’m sure as shit not going to be doing it in person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit that I'm a bit torn as to whom I want the bag guy to be in this story. I'm not sure I want it to be Calanthe, cause you know, in this case, Nilfgaard murdering Ciri's grandmother is a bit of a dick move, which was admittedly the way it was going to go down at the beginning of writing.
> 
> All that aside, what do people wanna see as far and how the next chapter goes down? War? Battles? Political maneuvering? Yennefer flexing them Nilfgaardian muscles and showing the Empire's reach?
> 
> Also, how did this end up being 9000 words?!


End file.
